Wilted
by Marley Anderson
Summary: Back in 1933, the lively Rosalie Lillian Hale was brutally assaulted and left for dead by Royce King II—otherwise known as her then fiance. Scarred both physically and mentally, Rosalie slowly bled to her death before her clock was eternally frozen. Some would say she nearly lost her life that night, she would say that she did. Post-Breaking Dawn written from Rosalie's POV.


Shards of glass flew past my face and scattered themselves around the bathroom in every direction. I gripped the sink in attempt to deter myself from falling to the floor, lightening my hold after hearing slight cracks form amongst it. I hung my head low with my shoulders high as I stood, straining to remain calm.

I attempted to drown out my family, who found my outburst puzzling, but not shocking in the slightest.

"She has been away from Emmett for a while," I heard Bella suggest. "Alice?"

"I have it covered." Alice responded with certainty. What was that supposed to mean? "However I don't know know why she's upset, I'm not the mind reader after all." gesturing towards Edward.

Edward's focus didn't drift off the piano, he instead just spoke over it. "Just the usual self-pity." he responded, voice dripping with annoyance that my "antics" were interrupting his tranquility.

A quarter of the sink broke off in my hand before I could even notice I had strengthened my grip. I blew out a fierce sigh of frustration and let the dismantled slab of marble drop to the floor amongst the sea of glass. Esme was going to have a fit when she got home.

I retired to the floor, exhausted by my anger. I rested my elbows on my knees and brushed my fingers through my hair. I seized when I noticed my hands were trembling, and that's when I could sense the pain that would've been rendered in my gut. I patiently waited for the tears to fall, but they never came. This life wouldn't even allow me the basic outlet of crying.

I attempted to comfort myself by entertaining the belief that this may not be real. I urged myself to take a deep breath and began to release the tension in my body. As I did so, I slowly allowed myself to regain normal posture while lifting my head straight. I mumbled my plea a few times before mustering the courage to open my eyes.

I pried them open slowly, letting my hope linger just a moment longer before it died a sudden death. My reflection was warped due to the damage done just moments before, but surely enough, among the jagged slits of the mirror.. there it was. My ghostly pale skin completely unscathed by the daggers of glass that shot at it just moments before. And of course, my former ocean blue eyes sprinkled with streaks of violet; now an unnatural golden. Black was slowly creeping into the mix, a sure sign that I was thirsty. For human blood, no less. We of course didn't indulge in this appetite, we were too moral for that.

..Or Carlise was, for that matter. Ah, yes, perfect Carlise. My anger returned as quickly as it had left at the mere mention of his name. My father was too much of an outstanding citizen to let us monsters feed as we were designed to, but seemingly not enough to avoid creating monsters in the first pla-

The soft composition on the piano was haulted by the sound of fists crashing down on random keys. "Watch it Rosalie!"

"Or how about YOU stay out of MY head, Edward!" I snapped back. I heard the bench skid across the floor and awaited for his rebuttal, eager to let out my rage on something other than the bathroom fixtures.

I blew out a fierce sigh of frustration when the bench was placed back where it had sat before and the piece was picked up where it had left of, meaning that whatever storm Edward had brewed was swiftly set at ease by someone—most likely by Bella.

I scoffed.

Bella, or monster I guess I should say now that she had joined our eternal damnation. Not by force like the rest of us had been, no, but by choice.

Imagine that—having a perfectly good life with a loving family and choosing to cast them aside for the sake of your own selfish, ignorant, childish desires.

"The only person guilty of that in this family is you."

I could hear Edward's breath fuming through the door, clearly Bella couldn't reign in her pet in time.

I could hear the sides of door frame begin to give under his grip.

"Rosalie I swear-" his threat was cut short when he found himself being lifted off the ground and thrown through the front door.

Looks like Emmett got back.

Since he wasn't due back for at least another day, I suspected Alice had tipped him off about my "episode" as my family liked to call them. I hated when my siblings used their gifts to metal in my life, but as much as I hated to admit it; no one could ever truly be mad at Alice, not even me. I knew she was only doing it for my own good anyways, she knew I would have too much pride to ask for his help. I knew if I had told Emmett I needed him that he'd come running, and happily so. But I didn't want to ruin his trip with my outburst, I knew he wouldn't see it that way, but I would. I guess I didn't have to worry about doing that though, since the decision was already made for me.

I expected to hear retaliation from Edward or Bella about Emmett's idea of an entrance, but it never came. I assume Bella must've convinced Edward that it wasn't worth the trouble. Pity.

I'm sure Alice went to reunite with Jasper who had returned along with Esme and Carlisle when Emmett decided to cut the trip short, I'm sure she filled them all in on the current situation and were long gone by now; leaving Emmett and I alone with our uncomfortable silence.

The floor let out a loud creak as Emmett pressed his back against the bathroom door and lowered himself onto the ground. I followed suit and let my head slump back against the door. I could already feel a shift in my demeanor the second I felt his presence. I was still too taken by pride to open the door and leap in his arms like I had anxiously wanted to, but just knowing that I could lifted an enormous weight off my chest. He had a way with me that no one else had had – let alone understood.

It was what drew me to him that fateful day in the woods. When he and I had first crossed paths, he was lying lifeless on the forest floor, his body adorned with slashes of penetrating wounds. Even from a distance you could easily tell they were deep, and most likely fatal. In this state, any human would probably conclude that he was already dead, but I could faintly hear the beat of his exhausted heart.

Had this been anyone else, I would've simply left him be. His death wouldn't have brought on any investigation that would cause us any trouble. I might have warned the others of the exposure to human blood in the area, but being that it wasn't fresh and had lost it's initial appeal, I wouldn't feel compelled. Overall, there was nothing I needed to do. Nothing that led me to believe that this man or his death would need to interfere with my life at all.

So, why in the hell did I feel like this? My mind kept reassuring me I was free to leave but my feet remained still in protest. Before long, I found myself apprehensively approaching the body, unsure of what I expected to find. As I got closer, I began examining him, curious as to why I felt such a pull towards him. My gaze met his injured legs and worked their way up from there. He injuries were more severe than I had originally thought. I shook my head in pity and let out a small chuckle, "This_ guy is a lost cause," _I thought to myself. Viewing his muscular figure up close I found myself in awe, "_and it's a damn shame too, that is one hell of a phys-"_

My banter stopped dead in its tracks, my sarcastic grin abruptly fell and left my mouth agape. I had never felt something like this before, not even in my human life. I stood frozen apart from my trembling, gaze locked firmly on his face. I desperately tried to form a sentence.. a word..a thought..

"Henry," I whispered to myself, too distracted to notice I had fallen to my knees. Memories of my former friend's beloved son came flooding into my brain and drowned me in nostalgia, enlightenment, and – though I didn't recognize it at the time – hope. Even with his enormous figure and lack of consciousness, he radiated liveliness and innocence. Just like the boy I came to love long ago. It was in that moment that I knew I would come to love the man that lay sprawled out before me.

That was decades ago, and even now, I was still bewildered by Emmett's resemblance to Henry. I saw it in his humor, his heart, his competitiveness, his purity. Of course, I valued far more than just his ability to trigger parts of my treasured past life, I also fell in love with his ability to make me almost appreciate this one. Something I hadn't even thought possible.

For the first time in my after-life, I was able to view my situation as more of a re-birth instead of an infinite death.

A few minutes went by before the smooth sound of his voice finally broke the silence, "hey babe."

I cracked a smile that didn't linger long. "You didn't have to come back, you know. " I mumbled, remaining as firm as I could muster. "I'm fine." the lie burning my lips as it passed through them. I rolled my eyes and softly sighed, God Rosalie.. this damn pride of yours.

"'Course you are, babe." he offered, aiming to sound as convincing as possible. "I was just dreaming of you too much. Drove me crazy."

I rolled my eyes yet again, this time with a playfulness only he could garner from me. "Vampires don't sleep." I challenged.

"It's got nothin' to do with being vampires, baby." his flirt accompanied by a devilish chuckle that made us both belly-laugh in return.

The laughter died down and the sullenness returned. Another couple minutes of silence rendered, I could tell he was brainstorming his approach. Eventually he decided on leading our conversation elsewhere, likely to ease into the taxing conversation that was sure to come.


End file.
